73rd of Spring, 510 AV
Slowly, a mist started to creep over the miles of trees that made up the Bronze Woods. The endless green becoming distorted, and losing definition as the sun started to set. The animal population started to settle down, their routines and habits paving the way for the creatures of the night to awaken and take to their hunting grounds. It was of these that a single small fox emerged from its hole. Its familiar surroundings had been disturbed. Frantically, it dodged about. Under a twig here, over a fallen log there. It smelled, something. Something big. Scampering forward, the animal found itself on an area absent of plants, and staring at a rather large, four-legged animal. In the failing light, the creature looking up, and found a pair of blue eyes staring back.
Looking down onto a set of golden eyes, Weyliss studied the small fox, and then dismissed it. His thoughts where heavy, and as his horse made its way down the winding trail, the warrior found himself lost in thought. Gripping the reigns, the man looked up to the sky with a single sigh.
Yesterday had been long. The young man had been drinking his usual. Minding his own business, when a young boy had stumbled into the bar. Yelling all manner of obscenities and brandishing a cooking knife. He had even gone so far as to cut into the barkeeper's arm. Weyliss found himself settling the dispute, and escorting the emotional kid home. His mother had spoken on her son's behalf. Her husband, had gone missing. A good week away from his work as a bookseller within Stormhold Castle. When she went to his shop, she had found the place had been ransacked, and blood was everywhere. In the basement a corpse had been found. The knights where in an uproar. The wife insisted her husband was innocent, and had been kidnapped by shady sorts. While, the knights mentioned the family was new in town, and hailed from the lawless streets of Sunberth. It was obvious the man had brought something shady with him. There was no doubt that it was a feud. What Weyliss couldn't be sure of, is if the father had killed this mystery man in self defense, or if it had been... something more?
Now the young warrior was on the road. At the behest of the missing man's wife, he had decided to head to the old Aylasa caves. Famed as one of the many hiding places of humanity during the Valterrian, the husband had been there before. The wife wouldn't say why. A whole lot of things didn't make sense. Weyliss had done his best to catch up on all of the rumors, but he simply didn't have time It was frustrating, because a single conversation with a one-handed stranger in a bar, had yielded some rather disturbing news. The man told the tale of a man from Sunberth, working as part of a group of small time criminals. He was their book-keeper, keeping records of the money they made. Or, if you listened to the bartender when he interjected, the man was the leader. Either way, it was assumed that he either dealt with killers, or was one himself.
Weyliss re-adjusted the longsword sheath laying across his back. It was getting dark, but he knew the trail was coming to an end soon. He needed to find the entrance to the caves. His goal was simple, take the man back to Syliras for questioning. The Knights could be the judge of any wrong-doing. The warrior hoped he could bring resolution for the family. He hadn't sensed any trickery on their part, and he dealt with people on a pretty regular basis. It all fell down to faith. Faith that he was doing the right thing.
Bringing a gloved hand across his forehead, the man pulled up on the reigns. He could see the clearing up ahead. The only things visible where rocks, and brush, but he new, that over the rocks, was the entrance to the cave system. Wrapping the reigns around a nearby tree, he pulled his gear from the saddlebags. Pulling some hay from a pouch, he tossed it at the base of the tree for the horse. He wasn't entirely sure of what to bring gear-wise. His bow would be pointless in the tunnels, so instead he grabbed a few torches, and mentally berated himself for forgetting the rope. Removing the cloak, the man slung the sword sheathe across his back, and then checked his leather cuirass, and greaves. Everything was snug, and wouldn't shift in a fall or a fight. Letting out a small breath, the man bowed his head for a second.
"Let me do right."
With the last bits of sunlight, the young man started forward into the cave.
